


Don't think I won't be here

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Crying, Gang Rape, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Bites, Murder, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omega Sam, Post-Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 5.03. Tim and Reggie are determined to get Sam back on demon blood. Sam has other things on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't think I won't be here

 

The two alphas dragged Dean along the dingy hallway, his bound feet scraping against the dirty carpet. Every so often he was able to catch his balance and shove his weight to one side or the other, but for the most part, he couldn’t do anything but let himself be dragged.

“If this doesn’t do it, nothing will,” one of them muttered, shouldering his way through a swinging door.

They’d skipped over the seedy motel room and actually gotten themselves a seedy _conference hall._

“Fuckin’ took you long enough,” someone snapped, and Dean put on his winningest alpha smile, ready to diffuse whatever misunderstanding-

_Omega._

The scent hit him like a wall, stopping the words in his mouth.

“Alright, let’s get this party started,” one of the alphas holding Dean intoned. Dean breathed deeper, trying to confirm what he already knew.

Autumn rain. He’d know that scent anywhere, even with the cinnamon tang he’d picked up after presenting.

Even with the bitter copper undertone he’d had ever since Dean got out of Hell.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said another alpha, and Dean looked twice, because he _knew_ that guy. “We’re here to try to talk a little sense into your fuckup of a brother, here.”

Dean growled. Sam had his problems, but nobody called Dean’s little brother a fuckup. Nobody but Dean, anyway.

“Where is he?”

“See for yourself,” the familiar alpha said, gesturing toward the podium.

The light wasn’t good, and at first, Dean thought his brother was hiding. He was mostly obscured behind some kind of big wood box, black, like it had been used for a stage crew. And then Dean saw the ropes around his wrists, pulling his arms tight to either side of the box. The ropes were secured to metal handles bolted to the sides of the box, and if the dusky tint of Sam’s fingers was any indication, he’d been there a while.

Dean tried to think back, to when was the last time he’d seen Sam- not since War in River Pass, and that had been- shit, _weeks_ ago.

Sam looked up at him, weakly. A roll of flannel was shoved in his mouth, and one of his eyes was bruised and swollen.

“Geez, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was cautious. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

Sam groaned, and Dean didn’t like the sound of it at all. He rounded on the alphas that had carried him in.

“Okay, what’s the play here?”

“Been some demons out and about recently,” one of the alphas said, folding his arms. “Reckon you might have noticed?”

“We lost a couple guys,” the familiar alpha said, moving close to Dean’s side. Too close. “Hunters. Good men.”

Hunters. That’s where Dean knew him from. It all clicked into place.

“Reggie, man, we lose people, it’s part of the job, it’s not Sam’s fa-”

Reggie hit him in the back and Dean went to one knee, suddenly unable to catch his breath. Reggie looked disdainfully down at him.

“Sam let Tim and Steve and I walk into a wood chipper. No warning, no help, just a free round and a halfhearted ‘good luck.’”

“Listen, guys, it’s not as simple as all that-”

“Yeah, we got that,” one of the other alphas snapped, and Dean recognized him as Tim, now. “Cuz according to the demon who tore Steve’s guts out, Sam’s the one who let them out. And he’s the only one who can kill ‘em. He just needs the blood.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. Steve had been Reggie’s omega. If he was dead-

Reggie turned and stalked toward the podium, toward where Sam was waiting. Dean hesitated, but Tim and the other alpha grabbed him and dragged him forward again.

Sam looked away as they came closer, and more of him came into view.

He was on his knees, tied so he was forced forward over the chest-high crate in front of him.

The back of his shirt had been torn open and Dean couldn’t miss the lines of dark bruises striping his back.

“Jesus, Sammy…” he breathed. Sam didn’t turn his head, just kept looking away.

“Yeah, for some reason, he doesn’t _want_ to drink it,” Reggie said. “Those demons are out there right now, tearing their way through whole towns, and this little _brat-”_ he kicked Sam in the ribs, “won’t stop them.”

He crouched down, fisting his hand in Sam’s hair, forcing the omega to look at him. In his other hand, he held a vial of blood.

“Last chance. Everything that happens past this point, big brother gets to watch. You sure you want that?”

Sam’s eyes widened, but when Reggie went to remove the flannel roll, Sam bit down, refusing to let him.

“Suit yourself.”

Reggie stood and Dean heard the sound of tape pulling off a roll. He turned toward the sound, only to be manhandled back around. Tim forced his arms together and the other alpha began wrapping the tape around his wrists.

Sam watched this, a little dully, his hair falling across his face.

Reggie moved behind him, flicking a knife open.

“Hey, no, you don’t need to-” Dean started, but Reggie ignored him. He took hold of Sam’s chin, tipping his head from side to side.

“No mating mark,” the alpha observed. “I would have bet money you two would have made it official by now.”

Sam growled something that Dean couldn’t make out. Reggie shrugged and dropped down behind him, sawing through the denim of his jeans without further preamble.

“Seems irresponsible of Dean and your daddy to let you wander around unclaimed,” Reggie mused. Dean’s blood ran cold.

“Sam, listen, I know it went bad last time, but we can work with this. Just drink it, man.”

Sam could cheek it, Dean knew he could. Pretend to cough it up, hell, even swallowing and detoxing later would have to be better than-

Sam groaned, pushing forward against the box, and Dean saw a triumphant grin crossing Reggie’s face. The cinnamon scent of omega began to spread through the room. Tim and the other alpha laughed a little, ribbing at each other as they finished taping Dean’s legs.

“You can’t be serious,” Dean asked them, trying to turn to meet their eyes. “You guys have known him since he was a kid.”

“That was before he was a demon-blooded freak,” Tim snapped.

The other alpha shrugged.

“I don’t know him. I do know I want those demons dead, though.”

Tim eyed him.

“Sure you can’t talk some sense into little brother, here?”

From his vantage point, Dean couldn’t see what was happening behind Sam. But he could hear.

The omega grit his teeth, shaking his head and groaning. Tim grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look up. Dean met Sam’s eyes, and the two of them just stared at each other. Dean wasn’t sure who looked more scared.

“You watch him watching,” Tim growled. “We’re all here because of you.”

Dean leaned back, subtly, working the tape against the metal edge of his boot. It wouldn’t be quick, but he could work the tape open that way.

He knew he could, because he and Sam had practiced this, over the years, stolen rolls of tape in grubby hotel rooms, working their way out of it, over and over-

He could see it in Sam’s face, the moment the strange alpha pushed into him. Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw tightened and for just a second, he stopped breathing. Then his forehead creased in pain as the alpha rode him, savagely. Sam’s eyes dropped, but he couldn’t look away. His arms were bound apart, spreading him wide, giving him nowhere to hide.

The scent of blood seeped across the room, mixing with the scents of fear and distress and arousal.

Dean felt the tape beginning to give way.

“Sam. Sammy. Remember that time we lost the handcuff keys?”

Dean twisted, hard, disguising the pressure he was putting on the tape. Sam stared back at him.

“Remember? We were playing cops and robbers, and you put the cuffs on me, and we lost the keys?”

Cops and robbers is what they called the ongoing arms race of improved restraints and ever-more-difficult escape attempts.

The strange alpha let out a groan, and Dean stared at him in horror as he braced his hands against Sam’s hips. The two of them were knotted together, the alpha had just come, there was no way he could-

The alpha forced his way out of the omega’s body with a grunt. Sam screamed, tears forming in his eyes even as Reggie moved to take the other alpha’s place. Dean swallowed his gag reflex, twisted at the tape as he continued.

“Remember what we had to do, Sammy? Remember how I had to stay handcuffed to the chair all night? Waiting for the motel office to open?”

The tape around his hands gave way, and Dean leaned back, just slightly, his hands seeking out the edge of the tape binding his feet. Sam’s eyes were clenched shut now, every breath coming in a pained whimper as Reggie pounded into his torn channel. His fingers balled into fists, nails digging hard into his palm.

“Remember you had to go ask them for bolt cutters? You were, what, like eight? I’ll never forget you coming back into the room with that giant thing. The handles were as long as you were.”

Dean found the edge of the tape and pulled it, hard. He’d have to work it around his ankles- it would take time he didn’t have.

The scent of blood was stronger now, making Dean’s heart beat fast. His omega.

He twisted at the tape, trying to make it tear.

“Push his head to the side,” Reggie growled, and Tim laughed, shoving Sam’s cheek down into the wood. His shoulder and throat were left bare and taut, and as Reggie leaned down, Dean saw what he meant to do.

“Don’t you fucking _dare!_ ” Dean screamed, but it was too late. Reggie sunk his teeth into Sam’s shoulder, spending his release into the omega’s body as Sam’s blood spurted into his mouth. Sam screamed in pain, the gag dropping from his mouth, and Tim was there waiting, tipping the vial of half-congealed blood into Sam’s open mouth.

Sam screamed again as Reggie ripped his knot out, not giving the omega even a second to recover. Sam’s breath came in pained sobs, and he struggled weakly against his bonds as Tim took his turn.

“I believe that’s my omega, now, Dean,” Reggie said, wiping himself down with a torn scrap of Sam’s clothing. “Since you couldn’t command him and wouldn’t mark him…. I think that’s all we need you for.”

Reggie advanced on Dean with a cruel smile and the same blade he’d used to cut Sam’s clothes open. Dean didn’t know if Reggie intended to free him or kill him; he didn’t intend to find out.

The tape snapped just as Reggie came into range and Dean launched himself at the alpha, catching his wrist and wrenching it until the knife clattered to the ground.

Dean dropped and scooped it up, bringing it up into Reggie’s groin in one easy stroke. Femoral blood doused him within seconds, and he didn’t stop to check the screaming hunter, just withdrew the knife and advanced onto the stranger.

The alpha put his hands up, defensive. He may have tried to explain, or maybe he apologized; Dean couldn’t have told you. His vision was tinged with red as he swung the blade once, hard, laying the alpha’s throat wide open. The alpha scrabbled at his own throat, coughing, as Dean wheeled on Tim.

The other man was ready for him, his own blade drawn, pressed flush to Sam’s throat.

“One step closer and you’ll watch him fucking die,” Tim growled.

Sam laughed. Knife to his throat, mating mark bleeding sluggishly, Tim’s cock still buried in his body, and he _laughed._

“Won’t matter,” he managed. He was breathing hard, having trouble catching his breath, even before the laughter. “He’ll bring me back.”

“The fuck?” Tim asked, turning his attention to Sam, and that was all the distraction Dean needed. He hurled the knife, burying it deep in Tim’s arm. Tim dropped his own blade and shrieked, clutching at the wound, and then Dean was on him, burying the hunter’s own discarded blade in his chest.

Tim toppled backwards and the room fell silent, but for the hollow sound of Sam’s laughter.

“Gonna get you out of here, kid.”

“I had a dream, Dean.”

“Yeah? What’d you dream about?”

Dean was sawing through the ropes holding Sam’s arms, checking his fingers for nerve damage.

“Lucifer.”

Dean stilled, licking his lips, trying not to let the tension show on his face.

“Yeah? What’d he have to say?”

“I let him out. Because I’m his vessel.”

Dean went back to Reggie’s body, digging through the pockets of his bloodstained coat.

Room key. 126.

Perfect.

“Can you walk?”

Sam shrugged. He was sitting back on his knees, regarding the wooden box without much emotion.

“Probably.”

“You want me to carry you?”

Sam shrugged again. Dean watched him a few seconds, but Sam didn’t make any move to stand up. Dean shucked off his coat, draping it around Sam’s shoulders.

“Come on. Arm around my neck. We’re going down the hall. Up on three, ready?”

“Why?”

“Because you need a bath, that’s why.”

“He’ll _bring_ me _back,_ ” Sam said again, a little desperately. “There’s nothing I can do to get away from him.”

Dean hauled his brother to his feet, keeping Sam’s arm around his shoulders. They didn’t make a pretty sight. A trickle of blood made its way down Sam’s thigh, and he moved with a limp.

They made it the four doors down the hall to Reggie’s old room, without being seen by anyone. Dean would have been grateful for small mercies, if he weren’t so busy wondering where the hell the big mercies were. He shuffled the two of them into the frankly too-small bathroom, lowering Sam gently onto the closed toilet seat.

This part was mostly autopilot. Run the water, fill the tub, get the first aid kit. Dean had been doing this since he was still too little to accompany his dad on hunts.

The bath began to fill and Dean turned his attention back to Sam, kneeling on the hard tile and working the laces of his brother’s boots. Sam ignored him, instead focusing on his hands.

“I can’t be washed clean, Dean.”

“Yeah, you can. Remember that time a selkie exploded all over you? You smelled like tuna for a month.”

“I’m not kidding.”

Dean stopped pulling at the laces, turning to look up at his brother.

“Neither am I. We’ll get you washed up, get you some room service and some magic fingers and you’ll be fine.”

He turned his attention back to the laces and Sam shoved him away with a shout.

“Listen to me, it goes _deeper_ than that, Dean! I was born for this… to be Lucifer’s vessel. There was something wrong with me even before Azazel.” Sam’s eyes were focused on something much further away than Dean. “There’s a darkness in me that can’t be washed away. That’s why this happened. I think they knew it.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“Bullshit. They were pissed about Steve and pissed about the demons and pissed about the damn apocalypse and they took it out on you. Just a bunch of dumb alphas trying to pretend that they can fix the world by bullying an omega. Oldest story in the book, Sammy.” He shut off the water. “You gonna kick your shoes off or are you going to make me do it for you?”

Sam gave him a blank look, but he toed his boots off.

He winced as he sank into the water, and Dean went back to the first aid kit, pulling out a motley collection of pills. Sam eyed them dully.

“What’re those for?”

“They’re medicine, Sam. They’re good for you.”

Sam stared another second, then shrugged and took them into his palm, knocking them back and swallowing them dry. They’d help with the pain, Dean knew. And they’d put him to sleep, assuming he wasn’t too worked up to let them.

Dean knelt beside the bathtub, soaking a rough hotel washcloth in the hot water. Sam was sitting with his arms around his knees, and he didn’t protest when Dean began cleaning the blood off the fresh mating mark.

“…I should stitch this,” he said after a while. “Maybe we can minimize the scarring.”

Sam let out a choked sob.

“It’s _supposed_ to scar, Dean. The only people who get stitches are rape victims.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he just kept pouring hot water over it, cleaning the scabbed blood from his brother’s body. Sam didn’t look at him.

He’d laid out the gauze and bandages before he’d started, and he held the gauze pad up to the mark, gauging the size. It fit, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to lay it across the wound. He sat there, considering, and then set the gauze aside with a sigh. He leaned in, burying his face against Sam’s throat, scenting him. Sam’s skin smelled of cinnamon and cloves, with no sign of the copper that would indicate demon’s blood. Dean growled low in his throat, running his tongue along the mark. Sam leaned into the touch, letting the alpha groom him.

“What are you doing, Dean.”

Sam tasted like the air before a storm, and Dean fought the urge to suck bruises into that pale skin.

“The mark. We- we’ll say it’s mine.”

Sam turned to look at him then, his eyes wide. Dean couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I shoulda done it a long time ago.”

Sam stared.

“This isn’t your fault, Dean.”

“Isn’t yours, either.”

“Yeah, it is. Aren’t you listening? I’m _Lucifer’s vessel-_ ”

“But you’re _my_ omega,” Dean growled, meeting his eyes at last. “And if that fucker wants a piece of you, he can go through me. Cuz I ain’t never leaving you alone again.”

Sam’s eyes were beginning to fog.

“I didn’t say I was yours.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t.”

They’d finish this conversation in the morning. In the meantime, Dean laid the bandage over Sam’s shoulder, taping it down. He tended to the open cuts on Sam’s back, trying to avoid the worst of the bruising. He let the water out of the bath and toweled Sammy off, catching him when he began to sway on his feet.

“Come on. Little further. We’re going to bed. Come on.”

Sam leaned on him hard as they made their way to the closest of the twin beds. He went down easy, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. Dean stayed with him a while, watching him sleep. They’d have to leave in a few hours- he didn’t want to be in the dead alphas’ room when housekeeping discovered their bodies. But for now, he could stand guard, and let Sam get a little sleep.

 

 

 


End file.
